stemmed out

You can't live in Missouri AND work at a church AND occasionally watch television (i.e. world series games) AND not hear the words "stem cell research" 1907325884 million times a day. I am about sick of it (read: ready to poke my eyes out with a coal poker) and I can't wait for the first Tuesday in November to get over with already.

I tend to sympathize with conservative views on the issue (though I am not always conservative in my views). I've listened to both angles and I've fought a few inner battles on what is best. Here's where I typically grab my overnight bag and hightail my hiney to Bermuda: people are going to choose their lifestyle, their research, their solutions to life's issues whether they are legal or not or whether I think they are (spiritually, physically, mentally) healthy. Dirty, folding table style medical procedures scare the living daylights out of me... and I'm afraid they might scare the life out of unprepared women.

Then I read this on a discussion board:
Please stop promising the sick and the lame that they will walk
again "if" we use embryonic stem cells.

That sentence reminded me so much of all of the lame and sick that begged Jesus to heal them with his touch. Are stem cells a certain group's personal savior? It just makes me wonder.


a town to fall in love with baseball

Before I moved to Saint Louis, I met a guy at a wedding who said if there is one thing about Saint Louis that any newcomer will quickly realize it is that Saint Louis is a town where people fall in love with baseball.

Admittedly, I scoffed at this statement for its ludicrousness. I was the girl who whined and moaned at her grandfather for watching countless cubs games when he came to visit. Baseball, especially televised baseball, bored me to bitter tears.

Then I moved to Saint Louis. I'm surprised there isn't a town citizenship exam that requires you to place the players in the correct position on the diamond. Everyone offhandedly expects that you know all of the players and last night's score and who's pitching tonight and how many hit Albert had in the last series.

I look down the hallways at the school and the munchkins are decked out from head to toe in their red gear. Homemade pennants hang from the ceiling. Signs decorate the walls and windows. Kids and teachers alike cluster in small groups raving about what is going to happen in the next game and how hard they are working for it this year.

Throughout the season, I've gone to a few games. I invested in a child's sized long sleeved t-shirt. I've even watched a few on television. I've enjoyed it more as a way to create inraods with all of these seeming crazies that surround me.

And then it happened. I listened to a game on the radio. Listening to a radio broadcast of a baseball game is the ultimate sign of geekdom and fandom. It looks like I am in love.

Go Cards!


the irreverance continues

On rare occasion, I come across a Jesus junk website that makes me laugh groan and burn with rage all at the same time.

Did you ever wonder what Jesus smelled like? Well it wasn't Curve for Men or a Yankee Candle.

It was this.


when worry was tomorrow's task

The days are colder now. These late rains make the leaves fall to the ground. Leaves that should have been red brown quickly and die. Dew clings to my windshield, wiped quickly away. Forgotten. The cold clings to my bones, asking to chill my heart and leave me here.

Fetally curled and contorted, the familiar smell of white tea dipped in melon reaches my nose reminding me of the last time it was like this. A time when worry was tomorrow's task and today was for living. A time when sadness was mine but strength was abundant. The tea tastes of my tear-filled memories and I'm glad the can is empty. Those days are over and I'm running forward. But into what? To where? With whom?

The days are colder now. My winter habits awakened. Good books scream desperately to be read and anaylzed. The characters reach to be understood and to be loved. By the end, they've run into their what to their where with their whom. But I'm still here asking the same three unanswerables. My endless "the end" suspended indefinitely.

The days are colder now but I'm still searching for fire.


like the dew that goes early away

Like the dew that goes early away.

I read those words this morning and they knocked the breath out of me. That is how I feel today. I feel like dew that has gone early away.

As I drove home Friday night, I knew the thrill of the latest and greatest attraction had subsided into nothing more than mild enjoyment. Despite my efforts to convince myself that he still could be what I was looking for, I knew in my heart that the dew had dried and I was already floating on through the air.

This weekend, a good friend came to visit but I barely had time to sit with her. I felt dried up and as if I wasn't there to refresh the blades of her grass. From one thing to the next, I buzzed and zipped, barely squeezing in a hot chocolate and a book with her for an hour or so.

This morning, as I sit at my desk I wonder at how early going my faith has been. I have been fleeting and irreverent. Impatient and rash.

I know I am like dew. My confidence, gifts, talents, or likewise will always go early away. Albeit refreshing, they will never bring deep lasting refreshment.

The rain of Christ alone sustains.


hitting the road

It has been nearly a month since the catastrophic half-marathon experience. I am certainly no longer laying prostrate on the floor suffering from acute pain of the estomago. My knees however still hate me. Fortunately, they are much kinder than they were a month ago and I only get stiff when I sit all day in a really cold room. Oh, wait... that describes my typical day at work. Booo...

This weekend, la Señorita and I went for our first "off-season" run. Holey buckets! I felt out of shape. WAY OUT OF SHAPE. At three and a half miles (of five), I was ready to crawl back to my car and forget about the whole sport we call running. It was absolutely ridiculous.

The problem with my life is that I purge on things like exercise.

A week of exercise might look something like this:
Monday: 14 hour work day. No exercise.
Tuesday: Day off. Run three miles. Play ultimate frisbee in the evening run approximately 2 more.
Wednesday: Squeeze in a two mile run if I am lucky...err... blessed, but usually work 12 hours instead.
Thursday: Run three miles... maybe.
Friday: No running. At all.
Saturday: Run five, six, seven... miles with La Señorita <BR>Sunday: Think about running. A lot. Sleep all afternoon instead.

Two days of crazy running. Two days of minimal POSSIBLE running. I am going to have to figure out a way to make those "possibly" days into certain days and not sleep all day Sunday. Grrr....

Time to think about going running... where did I put those shoes again? Oh yeah, in the trash.



You tell me your name means
the Lord saves
but today it doesn't feel saving
for her
or her
or her
You tell me your name means
Prince of Peace
but today there isn't peace
You tell me you are love
God is love
but today love doesn't reach her
only fear
You tell me that through you
all things can be done
let your name be true
let your name be all things
for her


new friends, old friends, basic friends, deep friends

She just makes me laugh. Her voice impersonations. Her satire and her simple joy in giving.

He always makes me think of the days when I didn't have a car payment and didn't ever want to be told I couldn't. He didn't hold it against me. Still doesn't.

She put up with my adolescent rants and stuck by me through many tears. She lives far away, but she's always on my mind.

She experienced great pain and sorrow. And then I did. We know the process though we lived it differently. We stuck together and are hard to peel apart.

She does so much and loves to care. Her heart gives my heart peace.

He guided my through my mountain of questions. He respects me. He protects me but lets me fall.

She sent me a cup of coffee. I couldn't drink it, but she cried with me anyway.

She laughs at my organization and throws me for a million loops. We laugh, we cry, we plan our lives. She's my balance.

He invited me to play and introduced me to so much that I hold so dear.

She came out to eat and then she called me. It had been so long, but it doesn't matter anymore.

She bought me a hat and made me wear it. We traveled, laughed, made music, and became friends that just know.

She ran and never left my side. We listen and grow, suffer and survive together.